


Eyes

by kronette



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written as a submission for Robbie McNeill's fan club, RanDoM Flight's, fanzine. We had to pick an aspect of his character and write from that POV. I chose Tom Paris' eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes

We see everything and reveal everything. When the face is a mask, unbroken, we reveal the true feelings. We are Tom's eyes. Clear. Bright. Glaring. Sorrowful. Confident. Playful. Twinkling. Radiating wisdom. Reflecting intelligence. We grow warm with friendship and trust. We grow cold with hatred and mistrust.

We wink at the Delaney sisters, now more in fun than in lust. We shine with pride as Tom maneuvers the ship through space. He really does love piloting the ship. We sometimes gaze fondly out the viewport, and we soften with remembrance. Tom's settled down over this voyage. We aren't as haunted as we used to be. We don't leak tears as often as we used to during the long nights when Tom used to lie awake, fixing us on the ceiling. We always unfocused when he thought back on his life, on what he used to be. But now, we are hardened in determination. Tom has made himself a good life here and has many friends. We crinkle with a special twinkle when Tom talks to Harry Kim or B'Elanna Torres. There's always a bit of awe and thanks deep down in us when he looks at Captain Janeway. We used to look at Neelix with jealousy, while we looked at Kes with wonder and a bit of love. Now, we hold Neelix with respect and Kes equally so. Oh, we still have that love for her, tucked deeply away, but it shines through just the same.

Ah, Tom is waking up. We blink sleepily, letting him get used to the dim lighting that signals his wake up call. His shift will begin in an hour. He rubs us tiredly. We wince at the now harsh light. We are reflected back at ourselves in the mirror. We like what we see. We guess Tom does too, and we crinkle again as he smiles.


End file.
